


Communication

by dragonspell



Series: Sex Is Nothing to Be Ashamed Of [5]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alpha Mick Rory, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Leonard Snart, M/M, Molestation, Omega Leonard Snart, Prison, Top Mick Rory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9344183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonspell/pseuds/dragonspell
Summary: After the events of Surprises, Leonard and Mick find themselves in Iron Heights, counting down days between visits, when the inhabitants of Gen Pop's C-Block stage a riot.





	

“Roll your sleeve up.” Doctor Pinchen pulls out a needle and examines it. Leonard smiles thinly and rolls up the prison orange to bare his forearm and elbow. He holds his arm to her and turns his head toward the barred window and its fogged glass. “You seem to be in good health,” the doctor says, carefully taking his arm and turning it with her gloved hands. “How have you been since your last visit?”

“Are you asking about my personal life, Doctor?” Leonard asks with a smirk. 

“If you want,” Doctor Pinchen replies, examining the lines of his veins before selecting a likely victim and pressing the needle to it.

Leonard grimaces at the pinch of the needle sliding beneath his skin. “I’m fine.”

Doctor Pinchen nods. “How is Mick?” She flicks her eyes up to him, a vivid green that makes Leonard think of the emeralds he once lifted from a brash businessman who’d been showing them off.

“You have his files.”

“You know him better.” Leonard searches her face, looking for a trace of the smile that should accompany her words, but there’s little to find in her blank, serious expression. Doctor Pinchen never smiles. If his stay continues for much longer, Leonard’s going to ask her why some day.

Leonard turns his attention to the room at large. Iron Heights has never been what one would call state of the art and age is breaking down what little glory it once had. The infirmary walls, once a soft white, have yellowed around the rust that radiates out from the pipes and the vents, stretching long tendrils towards the other mysterious stains that mark the room’s long and storied history. The floor board cracks and disappears towards the north side, hinting at where a counter may once have been. “Mick is Mick,” he says, and it’s about as true as Leonard gets. As long as Mick has access to food, regular exercise and, lately, Leonard, then Mick can survive anywhere. Sure, he’s been a bit moody since the guards took away that lighter he’d taken from a skinhead the last time he’d been allowed in the yard, but Leonard is unsure that freely indulging Mick’s pyromania is the best choice anyway.

“How was your last visit?” Leonard turns back to the doctor with her vivid eyes and stone wall face.

Mick had fucked Leonard into the bed and then wrapped around him and rumbled soft bits of nonsense while they came down from the high of orgasm. It was three days ago and Leonard still thinks he can feel a bit of the warmth that Mick sunk into him. “It was fine.”

“Hmm. Any separation anxiety?”

God, this woman. Every time. Leonard looks pointedly down at the small vial filling with his blood. “Are you done?”

“Almost.” She pulls the needle out and discards it, taking the vial to the centrifuge. “If the anxiety is an issue, we can increase the amount of visits.” The machine starts to spin with a low whine. “Or their duration.”

“I said I’m fine,” Leonard snaps and then pulls himself back in as the doctor relocks her attention on him. Well, that was a rousing success.

“It’s not a bad thing to admit,” Doctor Pinchen says. “You and Mick could simply have a strong bond.” Or it could be a side effect from that fucked-up heat therapy that Leonard got doused with before he was arrested, which is undoubtedly what Pinchen is hoping for. It is, after all, the very reason why Leonard is the lucky recipient of regular blood testing and various other screenings. “Or maybe an onset of an early heat. We could try petitioning to change the dosage of your suppressants.” 

Ah, yes. Leonard’s fucked-up hormones coming back to bite him again. The prison system, in its infinite wisdom, hadn’t believed that he needed a higher dosage of suppressant and will only provide the basic prescription. Doctor Pinchen had even asked the warden about it, but Leonard supposes that they will have to live through it before anything changes. Fuck, wouldn’t that just be absolutely perfect, to have a full-fledged heat in goddamned prison. In the meantime, Leonard’s been working a few different angles. Maybe one will pan out. 

“Or maybe Mick is heading into rut.” Leonard freezes as the words drop out of Doctor Pinchen’s mouth like all of the other calm suggestions that she’s been offering. It gives him away. “I’m assuming that it has been awhile for him. From our conversations, it doesn’t sound like he’s had one since you began your relationship.”

“Our relationship _began_ over thirty years ago.” Come to think of it, Leonard has _never_ seen Mick in rut. Maybe Mick’s always taken off during it because he’s never been anything but Mick in front of Leonard—and Mick’s never been the stereotypical alpha, led by his dick. Would…would a rut change that? Leonard’s breath hitches and he forces his mind away from the thought.

“Your sexual relationship,” Doctor Pinchen clarifies. 

Leonard closes his eyes for a moment. Mick in rut. “I told you I’m _fine_.” He hadn’t even considered it. 

That had been stupid.

Mick is an alpha. A rut is going to happen sometime.

“Alright.” Pinchen busies herself with a bit of paperwork, pencil scraping over the different forms. Leonard scans over the yellowed walls ago, past the scuffed counter top and to the barred observation window. Dobranski smirks back at him, shiny badge glinting the in the florescent lights.

Pinchen rolls her chair across the office to grab a slide for the microscope and then back as the centrifuge powers down. Dobranski lowers his gaze to Leonard’s chest, still smirking. Leonard ignores the crawling of his skin and studies the width of the drain, the height of the sink, the length of the phone cord. They’re the same as they were last time. “Are you having any issues with the officers?” Pinchen asks as she slides the bit of glass under the scope.

“No.” Dobranski turns away to talk to Westlen, nodding at one of the inmates chained to a stretcher in the outside room.

“I noticed that Officer Dobranski always brings you now. I was wondering if something had happened.”

“I guess he just likes me.” Dobranski leans against the outside wall, his shoulder resting against the reinforced glass.

“And?”

Leonard frowns. Pinchen looks up from her study of the scope. “And what?”

“Does he?”

“Doctor,” Leonard says, ending the conversation before it manages to get out of hand.

Pinchen nods. “I see no abnormalities in your blood. You seem to be suffering no side effects from the incident as of right now.” _As of right now_ , Leonard repeats. “And you’re in excellent health. I’m sure that Mick will be happy to see you.”

“Right.” Leonard rolls his sleeve back down and stands up as the door opens.

“All done in here, Doc?” Dobranski asks.

“All tests are fine. No need to keep Mr. Rory waiting any longer.” Pinchen holds Leonard’s file in front of her as she watches Dobranski change the configuration of Leonard’s cuffs from being hooked to the examination chair to being attached to each other.

“Doctor,” Leonard says to her as Dobranski escorts her out. 

“Leonard,” she replies. He wonders how much she knows.

“First name basis, huh?” Dobranski asks as they clear the infirmary. “Getting kind of cozy there, huh, Snart? Think Rory should be worried?” Leonard doesn’t answer and Dobranski snorts. “Ice Princess routine, huh? I see.” He keeps his hand on Leonard’s arm despite the fact that Leonard’s keeping pace and they’ve walked this same path before. Leonard tells himself that it doesn’t bother him.

It shouldn’t.

And, really, if it was anyone other than Dobranski, it wouldn’t.

Dobranski is one of the guards that had started to smirk when they’d found out that Leonard is no longer housed with the alphas and the betas. “Well, I’ll be,” Dobranski had said the first time he’d ventured in from D-block. “Leonard Snart is an _omega_. What would your daddy say?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” Leonard had replied. “I killed him, remember?” It had dropped Dobranski’s smirk, but it hadn’t stopped him from coming back the next day. He’s been escorting Leonard to and from the infirmary ever since, his hands a lot freer than they’d ever been in the past.

It’s hilarious, Leonard thinks. Dobranksi wouldn’t be brave enough to face him on the street, but here, with iron bars separating them, handcuffs and chains keeping Leonard restrained, Dobranski thinks that he has the upper hand. Like Leonard wouldn’t hesitate to kill the man if the situation were only a little different.

“Should be a little nicer to me, Snart,” Dobranski says as they walk through the second set of doors. “I could make your life easier.” Leonard keeps himself walking forward, crushing the urge to smash Dobranski’s face into the wall. “Con like you, life sentence, wouldn’t be a bad thing.” They pass a third set of doors and turn right. Mick is only three more gates down, waiting in one of the visitation rooms that are set up for mated pairs. Dobranski clutches Leonard’s arm tighter and pulls him backwards. “How about it?”

Leonard keeps his eyes averted, looking towards where they should be going. “Mick’s expecting me.”

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Dobranski leans forward, pressing himself against Leonard. He takes a deep breath, like he’s an alpha rather than a beta, pretending. “And you smell good.”

“Get off of me,” Leonard says, keeping his voice as neutral as he can.

“Now, you don’t mean that.” Dobranski smirks. “Because if you did, I don’t think I liked your tone. You ought to show me a bit more respect.” He grabs a hold of Leonard and drags him forward, hands reaching for Leonard’s ass. “Like a good omega.” He kneads, fingers digging into the seat of Leonard’s pants and Leonard’s mouth drops open. “How about you and I spend a little time together?”

Anger flares inside of Leonard, shot through with a pulse of fear that threatens to overwhelm Leonard’s better sense. He wants to hurt, to kill, to run—none of which is allowed to him right now. He pulls back, averting his face. “Unless you don’t want your little visit with _Mick_?” Dobranski taunts. “Little time in solitary? Huh? Don’t worry, I’d come keep you company. You could suck my dick—”

“Let go of me, Officer Dobranski,” Leonard growls, pulling on the thing inside of him that all alphas seem to obey and hoping that it works on Dobranski’s beta as well. “I need some space.”

“Sure,” Dobranski says, immediately releasing Leonard, though he stays pressed against him, moon-eyed and dopey. Leonard takes a deep, steadying breath, fighting back the urge to vomit. Or smash Dobranski across the face. He grips his anger tightly and pulls it back when it tries run roughshod over him.

“And step back.” Dobranski stays put, breathing deep, and Leonard grits his teeth. “Please. Can you do that?”

“Anything for you, Gorgeous.” Dobranski backs up to the other side of the hall and takes a deep breath. His shoulders sag.

“Thanks,” Leonard drawls, straightening his clothes. He puts a few more feet between them and Dobranski stares at him like he’s the center of the world. Leonard’s skin crawls. “You look tired, Officer.”

“I do?” Dobranski blinks at him.

“Yes. Maybe you should take a nap.”

Dobranski nods slowly. “I should take a nap.”

“Yes. You deserve it.”

“I deserve it,” Dobranski repeats. He doesn’t move.

“Right now,” Leonard hisses.

“Yeah, I’m going to go take a nap.” Dobranski turns to leave, but before he actually manages to put one foot in front of the other, he looks back at Leonard and holds out a hand. “Are you going to join me?”

Leonard’s stomach twists sickeningly. “No. I have to be somewhere else. But a nap alone will be good for you. A long one.”

“Right.” Dobranski walks away and Leonard holds his breath until he finally turns the corner. Once Dobranski is gone, Leonard lets himself sag against the wall.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Leonard whispers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Dobranski smirking at him, getting a little handsy, always popping up is one thing but this is something else entirely. He’s going to remember taking Leonard, going to remember wanting to proposition him, and all Leonard can hope for is that he doesn’t remember actually doing so. Sometimes the pheromones worked like that, fogging memories. Dobranski is still going to remember wanting to step up his game, though.

Leonard is going to have to do something about him now. The problem can no longer be ignored. And in the meantime, Leonard only has a select amount of time before Dobranski snaps out of his fugue and comes looking. Glancing back at where Dobranski disappeared, Leonard takes another deep breath and heads down the hallway to the visitation rooms.

He gets to the next gate where Wellington frowns in confusion. “Hey, Snart. Where’s your escort?”

Plastering on the smile that he doesn’t feel and bringing his pheromones to full bear, Leonard pulls out all of the charm that he can manage. “Something came up. He said that you should escort me.” Wellington rocks back on his heels and blinks a few times while a smile grows on his face. “Said that you were the best.”

Wellington preens, cocky alpha confidence working in Leonard’s favor. “Well, I can do that,” he says, puffing up his chest. “It’s, uh, it’s right through here.” He gestures through the gate. “Ned, can you buzz us through?”

Huffman looks up from his station. “You got Snart?”

“Yeah, I’m going to bring him through.”

Wellington escorts Leonard the rest of the way, nattering on about his dog, his nephew’s football team and the local gardening club. Leonard doesn’t scarcely dare to breathe until they reach the visitation room corridor. Just beyond the door, Leonard can smell Mick. _Smell_ him. A kernel of peace grows inside Leonard, burning away the residual fear. Still talking, Wellington turns him and undoes the cuffs and chains, collecting them into a pile. 

“Well, I’ve got to go back to my post,” Wellington says regretfully. Painfully sincere eyes gaze mournfully at Leonard, like a puppy at the pound, unable to bear the thought of being alone. 

Leonard rolls his eyes. “Maybe you could escort me back after the visit,” he says and Wellington perks up.

“Oh, that would be great! Yeah, I can do that.” He smiles at Leonard, hands in his pockets.

Leonard regards him for a moment before realizing that Wellington is going to need a little bit more help than that. “I need in the room.” He nods at the locked door. “To see Mick.”

“Oh, right.” Wellington punches in a code and the door clanks open.

“And you should go back to your post,” Leonard says when Wellington continues to stand in the hallway.

“Gotcha.” Wellington strides away and Leonard shakes his head as he walks into the room.

Mick is waiting for him.

“Hey, Lenny,” Mick greets. He pulls Leonard into hug, big arms wrapping around Leonard’s shoulders as he buries his nose behind Leonard’s ear. Leonard grips him back, tension seeping out of his shoulders. Mick’s orange prison jumper is already half off, leaving nothing between Leonard’s hands and Mick’s skin save a thin white t-shirt that does nothing to temper Mick’s innate heat. He relaxes fully against Mick’s solid body and sighs as Mick’s scent blankets him. This is what Leonard has been missing. It fills the emptiness inside of him, pushing out everything else until there’s only Mick.

Mick walks them backward to the bed and sits down, hands sliding down Leonard’s body. Rumbling in approval, he pulls Leonard between his thighs and presses his face to Leonard’s chest, mouth moving over the coarse orange jumper. He’s already half gone just from being in the same room, breathing the same air. So is Leonard.

Floating high on the mixing of their pheromones, Leonard indulges himself, rubbing his hand over the top of Mick’s head, fingers tracing the curve around to his ears and down to his jaw. He feels the rough rasp of Mick’s stubble and repeats the motion, presses deeper, wanting to imprint Mick on himself. “Lenny,” Mick mutters into the orange coverall, big hands stroking over Leonard’s backside.

Groaning, Leonard rocks himself forward, needing to be closer. His breath stutters as he climbs onto the bed, knees splaying to either side of Mick, Mick’s legs holding him spread. He leans down and kisses Mick, their lips sliding together for a brief moment before Leonard flicks his tongue out and licks along the upper curve of Mick’s mouth. Taking another deep breath, breathing in more of Mick’s familiar scent, Leonard tilts his head and kisses Mick again, this time pushing his tongue into Mick’s mouth, shuddering when Mick meets him. He takes them down, bracing himself against the bed. He rocks forward, plastering himself to Mick’s front, liking the feel of Mick’s solid warmth underneath of him, of Mick the alpha, Mick his _mate_ wanting him. Needing him.

Mick rolls his hips upward, pressing into Leonard as his hands clamp down and try to force Leonard impossibly closer, holding them together as tight as he can manage. Mick’s hard cock digs into Leonard’s thigh. “Fuck,” Leonard swears and shoves a hand between them, shameless grabbing for Mick’s crotch. Mick grunts as he makes contact, thrusting up into Leonard’s touch. “Don’t knot,” Leonard whispers. “Not yet.” He rucks up Mick’s shirt to run his lips over Mick’s chest. “I have plans.”

“ _Christ_ , Lenny.” Mick shudders and drops his head back against the bed, eyes squeezed shut. Leonard kisses his way up to a nipple and sucks as he rocks back against Mick’s cock. “You’d better hurry up, then.”

“Patience,” Leonard chastises, but hurries anyway. He sits up and drags off the top of the coverall. At the urging of Mick’s demanding hands, his strips off the shirt too, allowing Mick to have free rein over his upper body. Leonard allows it for a moment as Mick rubs his palms over Leonard’s nipples, then groans and shoves Mick away to finish getting out of the prison-issued uniform.

The clothes land in a pile of orange and white, followed swiftly by Mick’s, and Leonard drapes himself back over Mick’s straining body. He fumbles for the lube, for once uncaring of who might have touched it before him and slicks himself while Mick rips open the cheap, prison-brand condom and rolls it on with a practiced hand. Biting his lip, he slides himself onto Mick’s cock, eyes fluttering closed at the stretch, and seats himself firmly against Mick’s hips. A quiet moan escapes as he rolls his hips in a small circle, feeling how Mick shifts inside of him.

“Yeah, Lenny,” Mick rasps. His hands close on Leonard’s hips, gently urging him to move, encouraging a slow, steady rhythm. Leonard tosses his head back and loses himself in the give and take, the feel of Mick and the scent of sweat. Beneath him, Mick mutters bits of words and nonsense, hips thrusting upwards in time with Leonard’s. He moves a hand to Leonard’s chest, fingers playing with the sensitive bud of Leonard’s nipple and Leonard catches it, holding it in place.

Inside of him, Mick swells, his knot catching against Leonard’s rim and lodging itself inside, tying them together. Leonard sucks in a harsh breath, his mouth dropping open, and comes. He shudders on top of Mick, stuttering to a halt as his cock splatters his release on Mick’s chest. Mick groans, swiping through the streaks of white. He pops a finger into his mouth, sucking it clean and Leonard twitches with a painful aftershock. “Fuck, Mick,” he murmurs. Mick pulses upward, grinding his hips against Leonard’s ass and starts to tremble, muscles shaking with the strain. Leonard strokes a hand over Mick’s stomach. “Ready to come?” he asks. Mick growls and jerks, his cock starting to throb inside of Leonard.

Leonard soothes Mick as best as he’s able, soft words and gentle touches along his body. He’s uncertain how much Mick truly understands when he’s caught in the throes of an alpha orgasm, but Mick has assured him that it likes Leonard coaxing him through it. Leonard rocks slowly on top of Mick, encouraging him to continue as the minutes tick by. He thinks that this might be his favorite part—Mick’s knot deep inside of him, the alpha helpless and trusting underneath him, immobile with pleasure and at Leonard’s mercy. Leonard shudders and smoothes his hands over Mick’s chest, telling Mick with his hands how he feels. Mick catches his wrists, holding on as he follows Leonard’s movements, using it to slowly ground himself again.

“So good,” Mick mutters and encourages Leonard to come down for a lingering kiss.

“Mmm,” Leonard agrees. He lets himself collapse on top of Mick, knowing that it will still be a while before Mick’s knot goes down enough for them to separate. He folds his arms over Mick’s chest and rests his chin on top while Mick strokes up and down his back. Maybe this is his favorite part. The him of a year ago would never have believed it.

To be caught, to be _claimed_ , would have been a nightmare for Leonard only a few short months ago. Now he wants it. Craves it. In its own way, it is freeing. Mick noses along Leonard’s jaw, kissing his skin and a smile tugs at Leonard’s lips.

“Is he fired or dead?” Mick rumbles.

Leonard’s eyes flutter open. “What?”

“Dobranski.” Leonard tenses on top of Mick, the ease he was feeling a moment ago evaporating. Mick tightens his arms around him, stopping him before he can give into the urge to put space between them. It wouldn’t get him anything but pain, but his instincts aren’t always rational. “Did you get that bastard fired or did you finally give him what he deserved?”

“Neither,” Leonard answers. He pushes himself up to look at Mick.

“You smell like him,” Mick says, answering the question that Leonard hadn’t asked. His face contorts as his nose wrinkles and his upper lip curls. “More than usual. But he didn’t bring you.”

“No, he didn’t.” Mick’s burns travel about a quarter of the way down his chest, giving way to a sparsely furred expanse of skin, cut through here and there with scars of various origins. Leonard traces a long, nearly faded slice with his fingers, knowing that it was given to Mick by a bodyguard outside the Renault Hotel in Central. Leonard had been there.

He’d shot the guy in the back and pulled Mick to a car, blood seeping out from around his fingers.

“Len.”

Leonard sighs. This is something that he and Mick are still working on. There used to be space between them, an understanding that some secrets were not shared. Now, there is little room for it. And little need. “He got handsy.”

“And?”

“And I told him to go sleep it off.”

Mick blinks. “You Jedi mind-fucked him.” Leonard nods.

“I told him he needed a nap. He agreed.”

“And now he’s going to be pissed.”

“Probably.”

“Fuck,” Mick rumbles and Leonard nods again. Fuck, is right. “So now what?”

“I’m still thinking about that.”

Mick runs a hand over Leonard’s chest to his shoulder, gripping it. “Just let me know when I get to set him on fire.”

Leonard’s lips quirk into another quick smile. “Okay.” He shifts, testing Mick’s knot and Mick groans underneath of him.

“ _Lenny_ …”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, laying back down. “Just checking.”

“Yeah, well, make sure that your ‘just checking’ doesn’t rip my dick off.”

“So sensitive,” Leonard purrs. He rolls his hips, watching as Mick winces. “I promise that I’ll let you keep your dick, Mick.”

“’s nice of you. Considerate.”

“I try not to damage my property if I can help it,” Leonard teases. “Seems to be a waste.”

Mick grins and pulls Leonard into another kiss. Sighing, he wraps his arms around Leonard and there they stay, taking comfort in the closeness of each other. Leonard closes his eyes, feeling the easy contentment that only comes from being next to Mick, and lets himself drift.

* * *

A buzz rings through the room, the thick lock of the door clanking open, and Leonard sits upright, urgency propelling his limbs. Mick’s limp cock slides out of him and he throws himself to the floor, grabbing up their clothes. He tosses the bulk of them onto Mick’s lap and starts tugging on his pants. 

The guards are supposed to knock and give a few minutes warning before opening a door to a visitation room, but he knows that the rule isn’t always followed to the letter. And if his ‘suggestion’ to Dobranski has worn off, Leonard would much rather be dressed.

His pants are just barely up over his hips when the door opens and short half of his clothes Leonard armors himself with a sneer. It isn’t Dobranski’s face that greets him, though—or anyone’s. It’s an empty corridor. “What the hell?” Leonard pulls his shirt on over his head and moves to the open door. Mick is directly behind him when they peer out into the empty hall. Leonard glances at Mick who shrugs. Together, they step out and stare down at the abandoned guard station at the end of the hall. The gate is swinging open. 

All of Leonard’s instincts are cautioning him to step carefully, because there is no telling what he and Mick might be walking into. With the various freaks and criminal masterminds currently housed in Iron Heights less than illustrious walls, there’s a hundred different explanations and only a few of them are anything good. Leonard scans the walls as they move forward. Beside him, Mick is tensed for a fight, hands already curled into fists.

Down the hall, at the first intersection, Leonard sees a body in an orange jumper streak by in a half skip, half run. It’s followed by another and then a third, this one twirling and singing. “Freedom!” a voice yells, and Leonard recognizes it as Hudginson, an omega from the Gen Pop. It’s followed by a laugh and then Hudginson pops his head around the corner. He grins when he sees them, then dashes off after the others.

“Prison break,” Mick rumbles. There’s a note of joy in his voice, responding to the chaos and Leonard grabs his arm before he bolts off after the escaping omegas. 

“Or just a riot,” Leonard cautions. 

“Either way.” Mick pulls him into a one-armed quick hug and noses behind his ear, breathing in his scent. “It ought to be a lot of fun.”

Despite himself, Leonard smiles. “Just don’t get caught.”

“Mmm.” Mick drags him forward into the intersection and turns right, following the omegas. They’re heading to an outside wall, which is a plus, but Leonard is aware of just how much stands between them and the perimeter of the prison.

There’s shouting up ahead, some gleeful and some not so much. At the next guard station, the omegas from before have caught up with some other inmates and even from a distance Leonard guesses that there’s at least one alpha among them. His suspicion is confirmed when Mick tenses beside him and growls. Mick tries to muscle Leonard behind him, but Leonard stands his ground. Manhandling is all well and fine when Mick’s putting his cock up Leonard’s ass but Mick knows that it doesn’t fly outside of the bedroom. “Sergeant,” Mick says. Its half apology and half alpha warning.

Sergeant, Leonard thinks. “Sarge?” In the middle of the group is a large beast of a man, more rhino than human. He’s surrounded by a smattering of inmates of various persuasions with the more obvious omegas clinging to his bulging muscles while he paws at them. James Sergeant, better known as Sarge, considers himself to be an alpha above all alphas. He’d been sentenced to life for the kidnapping and rape of over a dozen different omegas and betas and, memorably, two alphas. The papers had gotten rather stuck on that last detail, calling him an aberration, as if the rape of omegas was natural and expected, but to do the same to alphas was just unspeakable.

Mick nods tightly. “Harem-collector,” he spits.

Leonard smirks at the emergence of Mick’s protective streak. “And you think he’d try to collect me?” he asks.

“’S not funny,” Mick growls.

“It’s a little funny.” To think that someone like Sarge, clinging to his ancient, outdated traditions and rigid mindset, would want someone as untraditional as Leonard is a bit ridiculous. Since he’s stopped taking the suppressants, it’s gotten easier for alphas to identify as an omega, but Leonard’s general demeanor stops most. Not that Leonard is ever going to underestimate any knothead, but still. Mick’s worry seems more endearing than anything else.

Mick grabs him and spins him around. “Mick,” Leonard hisses warningly.

“It’s not funny, Leonard.”

Leonard stares at him, seeing the honest fear in Mick’s eyes. He nods slowly. “I got it.” Mick’s grip releases a fraction. “I’ll snap his neck if he tries.” Leonard looks down the hallway toward Sarge and his groupies seem to be holding court. “But right now, that’s our way out.” And right now, Leonard needs Mick to be less possessive alpha and more Mick Rory. “You’ve got my back, right?”

Mick nods and releases him. “Yeah, Len. Yeah, I’ve got your back.”

“Let’s go then.”

An inmate prances past them, dragging a long stream of toilet paper, while another clasps Mick on the shoulder. “Fuck, yeah!” the man shouts, tossing his fist in the air. Mick bares his teeth at the man, but it comes across as enough of a smile for the man to grin back.

“This prison is ours!” a deep voice booms. The various inmates shout and raise their fists to the ceiling as Sarge grips a small blond to his side, dragging him around the circle. “We’re taking over!” He tosses the blond onto a growing pile of captive bodies, no doubt the beginning of Sarge’s new ‘harem’. A few peer around with wide, terrified eyes, while others stare at Sarge, enthralled by the powerful alpha. “Anything we want, it’s ours, and no one can stop us. Not the pigs, not that weak beta of a warden, no one!”

Leonard bites his tongue to stop from sarcastically asking what Sarge’s big plan for achieving that is, seeing as how he’s already been stopped once, and there’s a whole lot of walls and guns between him and actual freedom. It’s probably best if he keeps his head down, only raising it if he’s recognized—all the better to slip out unseen if he and Mick get the chance. Let Sarge and his thralls be the target practice.

Beyond Sarge’s newly formed kingdom is six gates and a guard house that leads to the yard and the wall. Before that, however, is a drop to the sewer system in a maintenance room. Leonard’s going to need keys. Hopefully at least one of the guards dropped a set in the panic of getting to safety.

Leonard nudges Mick and gestures to the opposite side of the room. If they skirt along the outside, they hopefully won’t be noticed and can keep moving. Mick nods and herds him to the left. Leonard grits his teeth as he allows it; Mick’s alpha instincts must be screaming at him right now and if all he does is a little bit of herding behavior, then Leonard can deal with that.

“Are you with me?” Sarge bellows.

“Yeah!”

“I said, are you with me?”

“Yeah!”

The crowd starts up a chant, praising their new leader, and Leonard’s heart pounds in time with it, rising and falling with the shouts. He’s never been fond of mobs, not unless he’s using them for his own end, carefully planned and managed. Otherwise, they tend to be…unruly. Thankfully, the morons currently flooding the hall all seem to be from Gen Pop. Leonard has yet to see any of the known metahumans wandering around, which could mean that the riot hasn’t spread to that wing, yet. Better for all involved if it doesn’t, really. Leonard might have a few allies languishing in those cells, but they’re mixed in with a whole lot of unstable crazy. 

Bodies jostle around them as they make their way for the edge, and they’re halfway to their exit when a hand seizes Leonard’s arm. He whirls as Mick snarls. “Omega,” Sarge whispers, his teeth bared in a ghoulish grin. Fear freezes Leonard’s veins. He forces himself to remain upright and not lash out with everything he has.

The crowd parts around them, alphas and betas, forming a new circle. Trapping them. Leonard swallows. “Let go of him,” Mick rumbles, his body pure threat. Leonard slaps a hand around Mick’s forearm, wordlessly telling him not to do what he’s thinking. Starting a fight will only leave them bloody.

Sarge ignores Mick and hauls Leonard forward, nostrils flaring as he breathes him in. “I’ve never smelled one like you,” Sarge says. “God, you smell good.” His fists grab Leonard’s orange jumper, pulling it apart. “Do you taste like you smell, omega?” He bends his head and licks a strip along Leonard’s cheek.

Leonard’s entire body snaps into a rigid line. Fuck, but the man is huge. Leonard’s sure that the man’s biceps are twice the size of Leonard’s head and the whole of him is pumping out so much alpha pheromones that Leonard feels like he’s choking. “Let go of me,” he grinds out. 

Sarge releases him instantly, making him stumble as he overcompensates for the sudden lack of pressure. Sarge stares at him, mouth open and eyes glassy, well and truly caught as he waits for Leonard’s next whim, and disgust swells inside of Leonard, followed swiftly by a heady surge of satisfaction at his own power. Yeah. Big, bad, powerful alpha and he’s ready to lick Leonard’s boots. Leonard could order the man to do anything and he’d do it—drop to his knees, kill himself, suck alpha cock—trapped by the very thing he thought gave him power.

Sarge shakes his head, like a dog emerging from water, and takes another deep breath, chest filling with it. He sighs in pleasure. “Come on, Pretty,” he wheedles, hands outstretched. “Come here.”

Leonard shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” Around them, the other alphas and betas are staring, whether caught by Leonard or Sarge or simply waiting to see what will happen. 

“Lenny,” Mick growls.

“Is that your alpha?” Sarge asks. “Are you claimed?” He turns to Mick. “He your property?”

“Yes,” Mick snaps.

“What do you want for him?” Sarge grins like he just told a joke.

Leonard steps in front of Mick, stopping Mick’s lunge. “Not for sale,” he snarls. _Alphas_.

“Oh, Pretty, everyone’s got a price.” Sarge looks at him longingly, eyes traveling up and down Leonard’s body. His face twists and he grabs for Leonard again, shaking off some more of the control. Leonard dances out of his reach. “Get over here,” Sarge growls. “I’m going to fuck you.”

“Yeah, I’m going to pass,” Leonard says, dodging another grab.

“Don’t play games with me, Pretty. It’ll just make it worse for you. You’ll be panting on my knot either way.”

Leonard ignores the sickening twist of his stomach. “I thought that you said that you were taking over.”

Sarge pulls himself up, arrogant and cocky. “I am.”

Leonard glances around the walls theatrically, looking at the nearest gate and then back at Sarge. “It looks to me like this is still property of the warden.”

“That beta?” Sarge shouts. “He doesn’t own anything! This is mine. Like a weak beta could stop me.”

“Maybe you should show him that.”

Sarge narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Leonard says, “that right now, this place looks pretty much like it still belongs to the warden and not to you. You’ve got this hallway, but what about the rest of the building?” He throws his arms wide. Around them, a few of Sarge’s new subjects nod in agreement, whispering among themselves. “Don’t you think that you should really take over?” Sarge glances around. “Prove yourself to be the top alpha,” Leonard adds, forcing his voice into a purr.

“Yeah?” Sarge firms up his jaw. “You want me to build you a kingdom, Pretty?”

Leonard winces then forces his face back to neutral. He manages a smirk. “Yeah.”

“Mmm.” Sarge leans in, nostrils flaring again. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll make you a queen, Pretty.” He steps forward and Leonard counters with a step back. “But I’m going to fuck you first.”

Mick snarls again but Leonard shakes his head. “No.”

“No?” Another step forward and another back. Leonard’s only got so much room left. 

“No, I’m not so easily impressed.”

Sarge’s mouth twists into another grin. “No, I don’t suppose you are. Okay, Pretty. I’ll get you your kingdom. And then you’re going to get down on your knees and beg for my cock.”

Disgust pulls at Leonard’s lips. “Kingdom first,” he says, unable to bring himself to even pretend that he might be interested in Sarge’s offer.

“Kingdom first. Don’t you go anywhere, Pretty.”

“It’s a prison,” Leonard says.

Sarge laughs. “Suppose it is.” He whips around to bark out orders, sending out groups to the different gates and guard houses. “You and you,” he says, pointing to two of the bigger betas, “make sure my property stays where it is.”

“Actually,” Leonard says casually, “you should probably send them to the east gate. Make sure that no one’s coming in that way.”

Sarge nods. “Yeah, go to the east gate. Guard it.” Then he bounds off, leaving Leonard and the rest of the omegas. Mick glances around, having ignored the order that Sarge had given him. 

“That it?” Mick rumbles. His jaw is still clenched like he wants to rip out a few throats with his teeth.

“Maybe.” Leonard looks down at the pile of omegas who stare back up him. “Have some self-respect,” he growls and strides past. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a few of them scurry away, already having realized that staying where a known alpha rapist can find them might not be the best of ideas. He doesn’t wait to see if the rest of them reach the same conclusion.

In his mind, blueprints and possibilities flip by, maps and paths laying themselves out in front of him. The finer details escape him, impossible to remember, but he’s got an idea about the layout. 

Groups of cons occasionally stumble over their path, some following the orders of Sarge, others merely in it for the chaos. They pass by an omega luring in an alpha, Leonard glaring when the omega gives Mick an appraising once-over. The alpha turns his head towards Leonard, but swings it back around when Mick gives a warning growl. They all agree to simply part ways, the other pair heading deeper into the prison while Leonard and Mick continue on to the outside wall and the maintenance room.

It isn’t until they hear the shouts of pain and see the guard’s uniform, though, that Leonard thinks that they just might actually have a chance of this working out in their favor. He gestures to Mick and heads straight for where a group of inmates have captured an unlucky bull. They’ve surrounded the guard, laughing as they kick at him, knocking him back down whenever he tries to stand.

“Hey there, Gorgeous,” an alpha purrs as Leonard approaches. 

“Face the wall,” Leonard tells him and keeps walking. He enters the middle of the group and his breath hitches when he realizes just who they’ve caught. 

Dobranski crawls on the ground, aimless in his desperation to get away.

“Who are you?” an inmate asks.

“Just passing through,” Mick says.

Leonard stares down at Dobranski. “We need something first.”

“Oh?” a beta asks, aiming another kick at Dobranski. The blow connects, snapping Dobranski to the side. “From this piece of shit?”

Leonard’s lips curl. “He is a piece a shit,” he agrees.

“I think we should carve him up,” an alpha hisses. “Not so big now, are you, asshole?”

“I think that would be a bad idea.” Leonard looks over at him. “A guard is a bargaining chip—but only if he’s alive.”

The alpha frowns. “A little maiming?”

“ _And_ in one piece.” Leonard kneels down beside Dobranski as the alpha nods in reluctant agreement, Leonard’s pheromones evidently overriding his inner psychopath. He lifts Dobranski’s keys, pocketing them, and rolls the man over onto his back. Dobranski’s eyes widen as he recognizes Leonard. “Hello,” Leonard says and drops his voice to a whisper. “I want you to remember this moment. About what I could have done and didn’t.” Dobranski starts to shake.

Leonard stands and dusts off his knees. “You should probably tell Sarge what you found,” he says to the two alphas of the group. The more suggestible one takes off immediately, while the other looks dubiously down at Dobranski. “Don’t worry,” Leonard tells him, “we’ll watch over him.” The alpha nods and heads down the hallway, leaving just the beta who stares after the departing alphas, puzzled. Leonard narrows his eyes.

“Where are you going?” the beta calls after them.

“You should go with them,” Leonard says. The beta turns towards him.

“Why?” he asks plainly, immune to Leonard’s control. He looks down at Dobranski. “You want him for yourself?”

“Not exactly.”

“There’s a couple of omegas a few gates back,” Mick rumbles, stepping forward.

The beta sneers. “And?”

“And they were saying that they didn’t like alphas. They wanted to share a beta and have a good time while they could.”

“A few gates back, you said?” When Mick nods, the beta grins and heads off.

“Now that’s gullible,” Mick mutters with a snort. Leonard agrees with him with a nod. “So, what are we doing with the garbage?” 

A guard was a good bargaining chip. That hadn’t been a lie. “Storing it,” Leonard says.

“Storing it?” Mick glares at Dobranski. The man shrinks into a smaller ball. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Leonard grabs Dobranski’s handcuffs and nudges him with a boot, encouraging him to crawl towards the other side of the hall.

“Len.”

“Mick.” Leonard tries one of Dobranski’s keys on the door. Frowns and tries another one. The door clicks open.

“He touched you.”

“He did.” Leonard looks down at Dobranski. “Mick here wants to bash your face in.”

Dobranski’s tongue darts out, licking along his bloody lip. “You can’t…” 

Leonard’s eyebrows rise. “Kill you?” He makes a show of glancing down one side of the hall and then the others. “I don’t see anyone here to stop us, do you?”

“Please…”

“Oh, now that’s just sad,” Leonard says, clucking in mock-sympathy. 

“ _Please_.”

“Don’t beg.” Leonard rolls his eyes skyward. “We’re not going to kill you.” Dobranski closes his eyes in relief. “But I do have an alpha to keep happy. One punch?” He holds up a finger to Mick.

“No, please—”

“One punch is more than fair,” Leonard says.

“How about I just rip off his dick?” Mick growls.

“One punch,” Leonard repeats. “I want him alive, Mick. Take it or leave it.”

“Take it.” Mick straddles Dobranski, ignoring the high-pitched screeching and slams his fist into the man’s face.

“Ooh.” Leonard winces. “That looked like it hurt.” He pulls open the unlocked door, revealing a small storage closet.

“Fucking better,” Mick rumbles and drags Dobranski into the closet.

Leonard snaps the cuffs on one of Dobranski’s wrists, fastening the other side to a bare pipe. “Sit tight, Dobranski. And hope you never see either of us again. I don’t think we’ll be so nice.”

Mick fakes a lunge to make Dobranski flinch and then they shut the door, locking him in the closet.

“What are the odds of them _not_ finding him before he starves to death?” Mick ponders.

“Probably slim,” Leonard answers.

“Pity.” Leonard chuckles and brushes his hand over Mick’s before heading them back on their path. The maintenance room is a definite possibility now.

* * *

At the next gate, they find another group of Sarge’s stooges fumbling with the controls like the group of monkeys that they are, banging on various buttons and screens. Between the two of them, Len and Mick talk their way past and continue along. From then on, they try to stay to the outside of the perimeter, which takes them past the door that would lead to the warden’s office if they were looking to be possibly shot.

“Snart!” Leonard freezes and then turns slow, spinning in a circle to find which direction the voice might have come from. He and Mick are alone in the corridor. “I see you. This is the warden.” Leonard spins to face the camera in the corner. He’d assumed that the power had been cut. Apparently, he’d been wrong.

“Warden,” Leonard greets.

“End this riot, Snart.”

“Can’t do that.”

“I said—”

“And I said that I can’t. I’m not your problem, Warden. I didn’t start this.”

The warden sounds skeptical as he replies, “But you can end it.”

“Oh?” 

“You can open the door to C-block.”

“And let you storm the place with military-grade riot gear and shoot everyone? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Snart—”

“Warden, you still have a few guards trapped in here. You might want to think about that before you consider sending in the heavy artillery.”

“Who?” the warden demands.

“Dobranski for one. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”

“Even if he doesn’t deserve it,” Mick growls. 

“Even if he doesn’t deserve it,” Leonard agrees. “Really, Warden, I think that when this is all over, you should really consider firing that one.” 

“Don’t you harm him.”

“Listen, Warden,” Leonard says, interrupting the empty threat before it even gets going. “As fun as this is, Mick and I really do have better places to be, so, if you’ll excuse us…” Leonard grabs Mick’s sleeve and pulls him forward.

“Snart!” Leonard ignores the call and keeps moving. They really need to get out before Sarge’s little riot spreads beyond the Gen Pop. Sarge might think of himself as the alpha-est alpha to ever alpha, but Leonard’s well aware that there are some real doozies being held down in the bowels of Iron Heights’ metahuman wing. It’s only a matter of time, too, before Sarge’s monkeys hit the wrong button.

The next few gates are unmanned, all prison personnel having likely been evacuated and Sarge’s lackeys not making it this far.

“There’s the yard,” Mick rumbles, pointing at the far door.

Leonard smiles. “Yes, it is. But that’s not our way out.”

“You’ve got a plan?” 

“I’ve got a plan.” The maintenance door snicks open and Leonard pushes inside. The drain sits on the far side of the room. “Hello, Beautiful,” Leonard says. 

Mick wrinkles his nose. “This is going to suck.”

Leonard acknowledges the point with a nod and a shrug. “If it were easy, everyone would do it.”

“Right.” Mick wrenches off the grate and peers down. A half mile of pipe takes them to the old prison foundations and then, if Leonard remembers correctly, it’s only a mile to the cliffs.

Leonard laughs, feeling a bubble of happiness swelling inside of him. He lunges forward and grabs Mick, dragging him into a kiss. Mick sputters for a moment and then throws himself into the kiss in his typical Mick way, throwing his arms around Leonard and committing whole-heartedly. Leonard’s breathless and half-hard when they part. He sucks in a quick breath of air and rubs his nose against Mick’s.

“Hell of a place to make-out,” Mick mutters.

“One for the road,” Leonard tells him. “Come on.” He kneels down and slowly dips his legs into the drain, sliding downward.

“Right behind you,” Mick says and follows him down.

* * *

The newspaper buries the lead, mentioning the riot and subsequent jailbreak and manhunt on page ten, but, in its defense, the Polk County News isn’t terribly concerned with the goings on of a prison a few states over. The last line mentions an Officer Dobranski deciding to seek other work directly after the event. Leonard folds the paper and tosses it onto the table beside the couch. He sighs as Mick’s legs shift underneath his head, Mick’s hand stroking along the side of his face in an absent caress. He’ll happily stay put all day as long as Mick keeps that up.

“I can’t believe that you tried to have a heist without me,” Lisa says, pouting at the paper. She kicks her legs up onto the table and leans back in the easy chair.

“Then you would have been inside too,” Leonard tells her. He flaps a hand in her general direction. “Mick and I would have had to break into the women’s side of the prison and then where would we be?”

“Probably still in that pipe,” Mick grumbles, dropping his hand away. It’s going to take awhile before Mick lets the whole thing with the pipe go. He’d gotten stuck near the end when the pipe had narrowed and it had taken them an extra half hour just to wedge him through.

Leonard sits up. “It got us out, didn’t it?” Mick glowers like he doesn’t think that counts for much.

“I was going to break you out, Lenny,” Lisa says. “I had the van and everything.”

“And that’s why you’re my sister.” Leonard gives Lisa a smirk as he stands. He stretches, idly contemplating what to do. Despite being half way across the country from Iron Heights, neither him nor Mick are allowed to leave their current safe house for awhile by mutual agreement. It’s unlikely that Iron Heights’s manhunt will lead to Polk County, but there’s no reason to take chances. In a week, they’re scheduled to fly to Canada, up to a remote part of the country. Mick’s rather been looking forward to it, but he’s always liked cabins. Leonard’s never quite seen the same charm. 

Two days after his and Mick’s escape and Leonard’s already made his way through every magazine that Lisa had bought, including the ones she’d gotten for Mick. There’s nothing much to do besides eating and sleeping. And… Leonard turns his eyes towards where Mick’s still sprawled on the couch, long legs reaching underneath the table and thighs carelessly parted. His shirt rides up a bit on his belly, uncaring of the sliver of exposed skin, and his head rests against the back of the couch, baring the vulnerable expanse of his neck. Yeah, there’s always that.

The more Leonard thinks about it, the more he wants it. Perhaps Doctor Pinchen had been right about the early onset of a heat. He’s not terribly worried about it. A heat would keep him and Mick happily occupied indoors at least. Neither one would even want to leave the bed. And, he’s possibly looking forward to spending his next heat with Mick. It would be a bit embarrassing to spend it with Lisa the next room over, but frankly, she’s dealt with worse. 

…Of course, Leonard could also be responding to a possible rut. Leonard casts his eyes away, considering that particular option. It’s a bit more daunting. Mick, though, hasn’t seemed different. He’d be different, wouldn’t he? Alphas were usually more aggressive in rut, more affectionate with their omegas, more territorial. Leonard had read that somewhere, he thought.

Either way, however, does it matter? It’s going to happen eventually. As long as Leonard stays involved with Mick, he’s going to have to deal with it, and Leonard doesn’t plan on leaving. 

But hopefully Lisa is. For an hour or two. “Didn’t you say you were going shopping?” Leonard asks.

“Sometime,” Lisa replies. “We’re out of food.”

“How about we move up that time schedule?” She looks up at him, her head tilting for a long moment before she scoffs in disgust.

“Really?” Lisa asks. “Now?”

Leonard shrugs and holds a hand out to Mick. He refuses to apologize. Mick looks at the hand, then back up at Leonard. “Are you coming?” Leonard asks. Mick grins and grabs the hand, fingers trailing lightly over Leonard’s wrist. 

“Honestly,” Lisa sighs. 

“Make yourself scarce, kid,” Mick tells her. He surges upward and wraps himself around Leonard like an octopus, arms snaking to either side while his lips nuzzle at Leonard’s ear. “Unless you want to know what your brother sounds like when he comes.”

“Mick,” Leonard mutters, his face growing warm despite his best effort to keep his cool.

Lisa stands. “The sad part is Mick, I already know.” Leonard’s face grows hotter and he drops his head against Mick’s shoulder with a groan. He wouldn’t doubt that she does. “Fine. I’m going. Try to be done by six? If you want to eat, that is.”

“Mmm,” Mick murmurs. “Four hours. I don’t know. What if I want seconds? Or thirds?”

“Shut up,” Leonard mutters. “Both of you.” He turns and drags Mick to the bedroom as Mick snickers.

“Done by six!” Lisa shouts after him.

“Go!” Leonard yells back, his voice turning into a squeak as Mick grabs his ass. Leonard glares as Mick grins. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“Promise?” Leonard nods and kicks the door shut behind him. Mick's shirt sails across the room, leaving his toned body half naked for Leonard’s appraisal. He sits on the edge of the bed, long legs stretching out in front of him, cock bulging in his jeans, and leans back on his elbows. “Looking forward to it then,” he rasps.

Leonard takes a moment to appreciate the sight of Mick putting himself on display, waiting patiently for Leonard’s next move. “Me too,” he replies, the pure truth of the words nearly causing them to stick in his throat.

Mick holds out a hand. “C'mere.” Leonard takes it, letting Mick pull him onto the bed. His legs straddle Mick's hard body as he claims Mick's mouth with a kiss. He pins Mick's arms above his head, delighting in the feel of Mick's powerful muscles submitting beneath his touch. Mick surrenders readily, opening under Leonard, allowing Leonard to take whatever he pleases, and this, Leonard thinks, is why he doesn't mind Mick's claim as alpha to Leonard’s omega, why he cannot mind. They've claimed each other, both belonging, both well and truly owned, and neither would have it any other way.


End file.
